The Entertainer and the Keeper
by bluesonmondays
Summary: Chris Kendall is an entertainer who will do anything his customers requests. When PJ Liguori came up with an offer Chris cannot refuse, a deal was made. Kickthestickz, side of Phan.
1. Chapter 1

Kickthestickz AU. Please give it some love, thank you. I have rusty writing but I am trying to break out of my writer's block while trying a new writing style. Please read and enjoy. Or read and review. Or both. :D

CHAPTER I

"Yes, that's the spot, that's the spot!" the breathy moan in the room was whimpering and wanting, and the clutch on the mattress tightened into white the last of sheathing sent him over the edge. The hold on his arm was firm and unwavering as the other hand intensified its strokes around his arousal. With a wordless whisper the man collapsed on the soft surface as he relieved himself. He was motionless as the other man slowly slid off his back and off the bed, pulling up his jeans and picking up the money laid on the counter, sliding the 50 pound bind into his jean's pocket.

"It was very nice doing business with you, sir. I hope to see you again." The young man whispered into his now sleeping customer; a smirk forming on his face as he picked up his shirt that was laid beside the branded suit and slid it down his torso. He picked a name card from his jean pocket and placed it on top of the Armani ensemble before slipping on his sneakers and quietly exited the room.

On the card, it was read: CHRIS KENDALL, ENTERTAINER EXTRAORDINAIRE. I DO ANYTHING A CUSTOMER REQUESTS. JUST CALL ME. ;)

* * *

"So I see our entertainer extraordinaire has got some money today!" a hand shadowed over Chris' pocket and pulled out a single 50 pound note. "So can I get free dinner?" Chris smiled when he saw the source of the voice and placed an arm around his friend.

"Our pickpocket extraordinaire had a dry day?"

"How much can you get from old men and young children really?" Phil mock sighed and gazed lovingly at the note in his hands. "The economy's really bad lately; I only got a bunch of coins. Had to go to Dan's bakery to get free lunch."

"Or it was just an excuse to go see Dan for lunch?" Chris snickered. "No, no treat for you!"

"Hey, we have to share! With the few high profile clients you have been getting lately, it is only viable that you help your friend in need." Phil put on his puppy eyes and stared pitifully at his friend, stretching the fifty pound note on his palms. Chris rolled his eyes, grabbed the money and started walking. Phil gave a squeal of delight and followed his friend as they turned a corner down to the quaint restaurant that was still open.

"I feel like a whore lately; sleeping with people is all I've been doing. What happened to the children's parties or weddings or school graduations?" Chris mumbled as he and Phil found a spot by the window and sat down.

"Being a clown or a jester doesn't make as much money as what you can get from sexually pleasuring a person." Phil mused thoughtfully. "After all, isn't that how all the prostitutes live in those swanky buildings and have exorbitant expenses?"

"I may as well sell myself as a male prostitute then. Or a male host. Hey, let me be your date tonight, sir. I promise to be extraordinary." Chris answered sarcastically as the waiter came by. "Oh hi Dan, I didn't know you work at the restaurant now?"

"In case you forget, my dad owns the bakery _and _the restaurant. The usual?" Dan answered and nodded when Chris frowned deeper and Phil nodded. "By the way, don't frown too much Chris, the lines on your forehead is growing even deeper than my dad's."

"Thank you for the kind advice, you lovebird." Chris grumpily answered as Dan sashayed back to the counter and winked. "Oh great. Now he even acts like you."

"It's not a bad thing at all, you know." Phil mused dreamily as he winked back at Dan, who disappeared from the counter. "Maybe if you get a lover you would stop complaining so much about your life."

"Oh sure." Chris rolled his eyes.

"Well, I am being optimistic about it, at least I can see Dan every day and his dad doesn't really oppose to us being together." Phil turned to look at said man and gave a small bow. Dan's father gave a warm smile in return. "I promised Dan once I got into college I would stop all the pickpocketing and concentrate in school, get a degree, a decent job. He's going to be a lawyer, you know? I wouldn't want him to feel like I cannot match up to him."

"In two months you will be one of those nerds in school, eh?" Chris whispered as Dan brought up their drinks. He took a packet of sugar and added it into his cup. "I cannot imagine not seeing you after my businesses anymore."

"Well, he will still be around, Chris. Perhaps you want to go to college too?" Chris ignored Dan's words. The waiter shrugged and went back to the counter.

"It's different. We have been together forever, ever since we are born and left in the streets. Getting in fights together, dropping out of high school together, I had not known my life without you, Phil. It will be difficult when you leave."

"Is this turning into some love confession? Because you know I've got Dan." Phil stared squarely at Chris, who immediately huffed and pushed his palms forward in protest.

"I am just saying, I will miss you. No homo, bro." Chris stared at his best friend sincerely. "Even if I am, I will never do you in a million years."

"That hurt." Phil pouted at the afterthought, and Chris laughed.

* * *

"T-shirt and hoodie, 3 o'clock. Has been staring at you guys for a while." Dan whispered as he picked up his apron and sat down beside Phil, who was munching on his food a little too huffily. "Methinks he is interested in you, Chris."

"Probably another customer." Chris said nonchalantly. "Who would be interested me without expecting a favor in return?"

"He's coming over." Dan nudged Phil, and both of them exited the booth, just as a young looking boy with curly hair and green eyes entered the space the two vacated.

"Hi. Chris Kendall?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I… I need a date."


	2. Chapter 2

Writing this up so that I can get going and try to write as much as I can. I guess you can guess who appeared in the end of last chapter. :D Unedited, and I am only using Microsoft Word for spell checker so please let me know if I made errors anywhere. I am trying to build up the plot, so far I am going slow to give you a simple picture of the world Phil and Chris live in and to give introductions to the main players of the story, but next chapter I will try to speed up things a little. Thank you for reading. :D

CHAPTER II

"…is probably what you expected me to say." The latter mused as his nervousness from before dissipated, sharp eyes piercing into Chris's. "How does it feel to lose a potential customer? Prostitutes like you around London are just like _filth_." He emphasized the last word as he glared at Chris.

Chris stood up and slammed the cup on the table, the coffee content pouring over the other side of the table onto the other's shirt. "I am NOT a prostitute, you asshole. I am an entertainer, please get your facts right before talking to me and humiliating me with such a degrading word to my profession!"

"But you do sleep with men per request and get paid for it. What makes you any different?" The boy stood up and challenged him. Chris turned around immediately, and pulled his collar roughly closer so that their faces met in a kiss. "How's this for you, you whore? How much do you charge just for kissing?"

Chris's fist landed squarely at the boy's cheek and the boy landed backwards on the floor, his chair going the other way. Chris lunged at the other and sent more punches to the pale face before feeling a pair of arms pulling him back. It was Dan.

"Let me go Dan! Let me kill this son of a bitch!" Chris shrieked; his feet kicking into the air as Phil got hold of the other boy, who was struggling as well.

"You fucking prostitute! You good for nothing motherfucker!"

"Stop this nonsense right now! I do not permit punches in my restaurant!" Dan's father bellowed as he came in the middle of the two boys. "Boy, you better leave or I will call the police."

Phil let go of the boy, who sneered as he flexed his arms. "Faggot." He flipped the bird at Chris and ran out when Chris began screaming obscenities.

"Stop it Chris. It has been a long day and you need to sleep. Phil, take him home." Mr. Howell turned back to handle the mess made from the fight and Dan mouthed a 'sorry' before letting go of Chris and pushing him into Phil's arms. Phil tightened his grip around Chris and pulled him out of the restaurant.

* * *

"Are you sure you are okay?" Phil asked as Chris sat on the sofa.

"Yes, I am, Phil, for the millionth time. I just lost myself there; I'll apologize to Mr. Howell tomorrow." Chris answered as Phil sat down and patted Chris' shoulder.

"I know you hate how your entertaining endeavors spiraled down to sleeping with men, and that boy there didn't do much help to alleviate your stress. But I hope you stay strong, it pains me if you are going to continue to be destructive when I go to college."

"Phil, I am sorry." Chris muttered as he gazed at his friend and sighed. "He is right though, I am a whore."

"Chris. Remember when we were still in Manchester? We told ourselves that coming to London we will not let anyone look down on us. Five years ago we promised that, and five years later, I still want to believe that we can do that." Phil's green eyes stared intently into Chris as his grip tightened. "I now have a chance to break my cycle of pickpocketing. I'm going to college, getting a decent job. You can do just the same. I know you love performing, love standing on a stage. No more doing things that you dislike."

"…I remember." Chris nodded. "I was very proud of you when you managed to do well in your GSCEs and got into a good college. Feel like I have been languishing for a long time, while you are progressing ahead. Maybe if I get into a performing school I might get a shot on BBC."

Phil laughed as he slapped Chris' back. "That is the Chris I know! No worries mate, I'm sure you will do just fine." Chris mustered a small smile at his companion as his fingers rubbed his sore back in reflex.

"Well, first thing's first, I need to apologize to that boy. I shouldn't have hit him, no matter how angry I was."

Phil grinned as he produced a brown leather wallet. "You seemed to forget my soon-to-be-quitted profession."

"You are the best mate." Chris grinned in return as he took the wallet from his friend. "I wonder how you will survive without your fingers itching to pocket another wallet."

"Hush, my fingers are talented even without pickpocketing. I can do so many other things." Phil's eyes twinkled.

Chris feigned a disgusted look as Phil leaned back on the sofa. "Gods I don't even want to know."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! Back with a new chapter. Thank you for the reviews and the reads, it makes me happy. :D Here we start progressing into the plot. I am posting chapters as I go because I have only two off days [aka today and tomorrow] from work and I know I can't write when I am working and then I will get distracted and blah, blah, blah, lose the motivation to write. [which may or may not make the next few chapters be delayed since my next rest day is well, next week.] But I really want to finish this story, mostly because of my profound love for Kickthestickz, and also because I want them to be together in my story already. Please read and review? :D

p/s: I am not British. I am aware that I may mess up some terms that is used in American English vs British English, but hopefully the message still go across. Thank you!

CHAPTER III

"Hello?" the mushed voice came over the phone. Chris sat on his sofa cradling the phone in his left ear and the now completely perused wallet on his lap. It was two days after he had fought the boy in Mr. Howell's restaurant, and Chris had hesitated whether or not to call until Phil came in with a word of conscience ("You are holding his wallet, dude.") giving Chris no chance.

"Hey, is this PJ Liguori?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"I have your wallet." Pause. "The name's Chris Kendall."

Pause. "Oh. Hey."

"Look, can we meet? Anytime today?"

"…Yeah. I get out of school at 5. Meet me at Hyde Park?"

"…Sure. I'll call."

The call ended and Chris fell back to the sofa, looking at the inside of the wallet again, where there were two small plastic sections, one small plastic section where PJ's name and name was written in case of its loss, and the other with a picture of he and his family. Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

* * *

Few hours later, the curly haired boy appeared carrying his bagpack as he walked into Hyde Park, to where Chris has been sitting on a bench. He waved and Chris waved back. PJ sat down beside Chris and gave a warm grin, although the big bruise Chris gave him was still apparent.

"Hey, Chris Kendall."

"What's up, PJ Liguori." Chris smiled half-heartedly, passing the wallet. "Sorry I kept it for two days."

"At least it's not gone." PJ answered back and flipped it open.

"Everything should be in there… I checked." Chris muttered. He felt PJ tense and wondered if he should continue talking. "…I know your father."

"I looked into his phone once." PJ leaned back on the bench and slid the wallet into his pocket. "He locked it and forbade anyone to look into the phone, not even mom. One day I came home early when he forgot to lock his phone." Pause. "Too much pictures of the racy kind that I could have never imagined. There was a picture of you and him, half naked. The caption was: 'Sexy Chris Kendall'. That's how I recognized you." With PJ's stare, Chris felt his face flare.

"…We slept together once, but it was a long time ago. I didn't know if he was married, or if he had kids. I don't ask personal questions." Chris felt a gulp burning in his throat. He felt apologetic for a reason he did not understand. "I am very sorry."

"I am sorry for the other night too, for provoking you. I was very angry and upset; my dad suddenly decided to announce that he was leaving the family to gambol with his new boy toy and then I see you." PJ's tone softened. "But it is good for us in a way, because at least now we know his true colors."

"I am sure your family will be strong enough."

"My mom is meeting the lawyers today to get the divorce proceedings done. We will try to get a big chunk of his money pie." PJ replied. He rubbed his bruise absent-mindedly and sat up from the bench. "Anyway, that's all. Thank you again Chris Kendall."

Chris' hand shot out to hold PJ's wrist. "Uhm, hey, do you want medication for that bruise? Looks like no one has tended to it."

PJ raised an eyebrow.

Chris let his hand slip and he laughed awkwardly. "Oh yeah, never mind. I guess I'll talk to you later?"

PJ's bewildered expression changed into a serene one, and somewhere in Chris, a beat stopped.

* * *

"Happy birthday Greggie!" Chris produced two more balloons and gave it to the birthday boy, who giggled as he accepted the gifts.

"Mommy, mommy! Christopher gave me a balloon doggy and a balloon bunny!" the tiny kid ran with his stubby limbs as he reached his beaming mother, who stroked his hair and gave him a hug. The kid's father stood by his wife and kissed his son's forehead, laughing as he took the bunny and ran away as his son chased after him.

"Thank you so much Christopher, it is always wonderful to have you here for our parties. Gregory loves you, and so do we." Mrs. Daughtry smiled gently as she approached the entertainer who was in a clown suit. "Can we engage you again for next month for Victor's birthday?"

"But don't you want to celebrate the occasion with your husband in private?"

"Well, this is Victor's idea. We want to celebrate the occasion as a family and you are part of our family. The skit you did last year for his birthday was still fresh in our minds." Mrs. Daughtry also had absolutely no idea that day that year was also the first time Chris was introduced to sadomasochistic sex, as a 'birthday present'.

"Well, I shall see if I can make my schedule." Chris replied humbly. Victor Daughtry returned to the two, picking up Gregory and passing him to the missus, while draping an arm around Chris.

"You must! I insist. I would even pay you double to make an appearance and entertain us as always." Victor Daughtry's eyes carried a glint Chris chose not to notice.

"Please, Christopher?" little Gregory's plea made the young man sigh, and he bit his lip.

* * *

"Chris? Where had you been since last night? It's 10 in the morning!" Phil asked from the sofa as Chris entered the living room, some groceries in hand. "Oh my god Chris!" For Chris had landed on the floor, his groceries of booze strewing over the carpet and wetting it. "What happened? You look so pale!"

"…Daughtry." One word was enough to make Phil understand, and he immediately pulled his best friend to the bathroom, where sure enough, blood was trickling from Chris' trousers. He removed the offending clothing and turn on the shower, watching carefully as red liquid slowly exited via the plug.

"I thought you said you won't go there anymore!" Phil's voice was desperate, and Chris closed his eyes as he leaned on the bathroom wall and placed a hand over his forehead.

"I can't. Mrs. Daughtry and Gregory love me. I get paid."

"But the man is a monster! Last year you landed in the hospital because of his stupid stunt with the handcuffs and the brinjals…"

"Stop it!" Chris mustered his energy to shout, and Phil kept silent. "I am fine. I wasn't hurt that badly this time round, just need to clean up and I'll be good in no time. There's still next month…"

"God. Chris, listen to me." Phil jumped into the tub and held Chris by the cheeks, forcing his friend to look at him. "Stop whatever crap that is happening. We talked about this last time round! Break the cycle!"

"I cannot stop." Chris uttered weakly. "I have no one, I have no hope. Working as whatever I am working now is the only way I can escape this meaningless, abhorring life. Five years ago I was idealistic, I was stupid. Five years ahead, I am realistic enough to know that exposure doesn't come without sacrifice."

"What happened to performing school? BBC?" Phil shake Chris' shoulders, but the latter blinked blankly in response. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking about making it big!" He pulled at Chris' arms when specks of blood surfaced and hitched a breath when he saw cut marks hidden beneath his long sleeves. "Fuck!"

Chris tilted his head to a side and pulled his arms away in reflex, hugging himself. "I don't think I can handle fame anymore. Please leave me alone."

The guest chose the most inopportune time to ring the doorbell.

"Who the hell is here?" Phil spat as he climbed out of the bathtub. Chris lied down on the bathtub in a fetal position as the water kept raining on his body. "Coming!"

The door opened, and Dan waved. Phil sighed.

Dan stepped aside and another boy appeared, waving as well.

"Oh fuck."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4! I am on a roll. If I can spin Chapter 5 out by today then I would, otherwise, it will be until the weekend, or whenever I can finish up writing. I don't use a lot of descriptions but hopefully by dialogue it is possible to imagine the characterization and personality of the main four in the play at this point, because that is my goal in writing this piece of fiction. I included a short Phan scene to make up for the Kickthestickz load that is happening in this chapter. That and I had always imagined PJ to be a rich man's son.

CHAPTER IV

"Why are you here?" Phil asked, standing by the door.

"Oh, I just came by to see Chris Kendall. I'm PJ Liguori." PJ stretched his hand and Phil stared at it.

"Well, he's busy at the moment; I believe you had your wallet already? There shouldn't be any more business for Chris with you." Phil asked quietly as Dan stepped into the space Phil allocated for him in the tiny frame that is Chris's door. "That or you may come back another day." He tried to close the door but PJ blocked it with his palm.

"Well, since I am here I might as well go in and wait."

"Why are you so persistent?" Phil gave a grunt of frustration just as the sound of water overflowing came from the bathroom. "Oh shit." Phil ran into the bathroom just as Dan followed. "Chris!"

Water has engulfed the empty space that was the tub, and Chris was submerged inside. Phil immediately turned off the water and Dan's face contorted to that of horror as he flailed.

"Get a first aid kit, now!" PJ ordered as he reached the side of the bathtub and pulled Chris' face clear of the water. Dan nodded shakily and ran out of the bathroom. "Hey Chris Kendall, wake up!" No response. "Let's hope you are light enough!" His arms reached for Chris' knees and arms and he pulled the latter out of the water and onto the bathroom floor. "He's not breathing. I need to perform CPR." Without hesitating he leaned down to breath air into Chris' mouth.

* * *

"Are you awake?"

"…Fuck." Chris whispered, as an unwelcome face appeared in his vision. He tried to move but something was restricting him. "…Bandages?"

"You were injured." PJ stated. "Cuts on your wrists, bruises on your body, and some internal injury in your anal region. I treated them all, since I figured you don't want to go to the hospital."

Chris' face flushed, as his eyes diverted across the room to the opening door.

"PJ forced himself in. We didn't do anything." Phil shrugged as Dan came in with a bowl and placed it by the countertop. "Brought you some milk, figured you would be hungry."

"If I didn't, you would be dead, Chris Kendall." PJ stood up from the chair he had been sitting on. "But so far it seemed I patched you up well."

"Why are you here again?" Chris looked at PJ, who was looking at his bandaging work of Chris's arm. The curly haired boy ignored him and his eyes seared on Chris's limbs. Chris turned away as his face burned.

"Well, I need to go now, need to get back to the bakery. Please get better, Chris. I will visit you again." Dan announced as Phil nodded and led him out, leaving the two once again alone in the room.

"I need a favor, an urgent need." PJ spoke under his breath as he reached near Chris' ear and adjusted the blankets around the latter.

"Is this a personal request or a business inquiry? Or just a reason to punch me again?" Chris queried back in the same low tone. PJ pulled back a little so that their faces are close to each other and gave a small smile, sending shivers through Chris' spine.

"As long as it is monetary in value, does it matter?"

"Look at the state I am in at this moment and tell me if I can perform that favor."

"I would still want to employ you, Chris Kendall." PJ bent even closer so that their lips are a few inches away from each other, and breathed into the black haired man's face. Chris made himself stare back in those deep green eyes.

* * *

Phil let his fingers curl around Dan's as he led Dan to the main entrance, and gave a halfhearted smile as Dan bent forward to kiss him.

"Phil, you care for Chris too much. He just destructs himself; that is the only thing he knows what to do!" Dan said, eyes furrowing in worry. Phil signaled a hush sound and kissed Dan again, the latter complying albeit not willingly.

"Babe, he is my best friend, my oldest friend. I keep feeling that if I don't keep an eye on him I will lose him." Phil looked at his boyfriend imploringly and Dan's lips flitted into a thin line. "At least until we enter college in a month, I want to be there for him. But I promise, you will always be my top priority. Okay?"

"Okay." Dan reached for Phil's shoulders and hugged him warmly, sighing on his shoulder when Phil kissed his cheek. "I just wish he would know that his best friend cares for him too."

"I'll call you." Phil made a gesture with his fingers along his ear as Dan waved goodbye and left the flat.

* * *

"… or I should call you Chris. You want me to call you that?" PJ's tone was teasing, flirty even, and Chris shuddered in what felt like anticipation.

"Is your request something related to this?" Chris murmured in return.

"You aren't resisting." PJ noted.

"You don't feel like you." Chris said.

"I don't feel like myself today either." PJ answered. "But yes, you may want to accustom yourself to this." A kiss. "My father mentioned that he wanted to meet you."

Chris pushed PJ away almost immediately. "What was that about?"

PJ's eyes turned serious as he regained his spot on the chair. "Remember I told you about the boy toy my father wanted to escape with?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he dumped my father after finding out we are having all access to his money from the divorce. My father wants to come back in to the family, but I'm not letting him to."

"You want to hire me to prevent that."

PJ smiled, a hand stroking Chris's hair. "I know you are a smart one."

"Get a court restriction." Chris huddled his blankets closer to himself. "I need to rest."

"The thing is, if there was something Dad taught me well, is that the law doesn't really restrict businessmen." PJ's eyes fixated themselves upon Chris. "Especially ones that are on friendly relations with the Palace."

"You will definitely be a shrewd successful businessman in the future, PJ Liguori." Chris muttered. "Still didn't mean I would accept."

"There is something for you, of course. I am not stupid." PJ reached for Chris's face and stroked it lovingly. "By the way, I know you fancy me, so I want to make an offer for you that you wouldn't be able to resist."

"You flatter yourself a little way too much, you know that?" Chris rolled his eyes. "Smarmy young man who decides he can control whatever he wants. You are just a young twat."

"But you are aroused nonetheless, am I wrong?" PJ's voice dripped with sarcasm, and Chris's face hardened. PJ shot a look at the blankets arranged around Chris's crotch and pleasantly smiled.

"Chris, I got you some porridge." Phil walked in holding a bowl, immediately piercing the conversation short. "And why aren't you drinking your milk?"

"I didn't feel like it." Chris answered as his friend placed the new bowl next to the milk. "Phil, can you please escort this boy here to the door? I need to rest."

"I will keep in touch, _Chris_." PJ bowed and made a grab for his bag pack. "Please rest well."

"What's with that guy?" Phil's voice was one of surprise.

"I wonder." Chris turned to his side on the bed, and uncomfortably shrugged.


	5. Chapter 5

Sexayyy chapter 5! :D Hmm, well I predict the ending in around five more chapters or so. This will definitely be the last chapter for today because despite feeling on a roll and wanting to finish up the story by today I have other things to do besides writing all day.

CHAPTER V

"How are you today?" the now familiar voice reverberated through the room as PJ walked in with a plate of pizza. "You hungry?"

"Why are you here again?" Chris answered coldly, and turned to look at the window from the chair he was sitting on.

"To see if you are any better, of course." PJ placed the pizza in front of Chris. "I care for your wellbeing."

"Or you want me to get better to start getting to work." Chris shot PJ a look, and a thin line formed across his lips. PJ sat down opposite Chris and took a piece of pizza off the pan, taking a ginger bite.

"You are so mean to me." PJ pouted. "Hmm, the pizza is good!"

"What is it in for me?" Chris asked as he took a piece off the pan. "You are so persistent."

"Persistence pays off." PJ munched a piece of cheese and swallowed.

"Why are you so all-knowing?" Chris mocked.

"Because I know you want to get in my good books." PJ mused. "Or my pants."

"You are also terribly narcissistic. Are all rich boys like that?"

"Perhaps." Licking his finger, PJ reached for another piece. "But that is where our self-assurance comes from."

Chris cannot help but snort. "You are being ridiculous."

"That is also a trait that comes with rich boys. We are so amazing it borders on being ridiculous." PJ winked. "Anyways, my father is going to have dinner with our family this weekend. I am going to take you along."

"What is it in for me again?" Chris muttered as he bit the last of his pizza piece.

"Well, the money. I'm paying you loads." PJ answered. "And I am witness that you got hurt from your business favors. So get retired from this occupation you are doing now. Go do something legit."

"You sound like you care, but you are just one of those rich boys who want things to go their way and make it sound like I am the one who cannot resist the offer of money." Chris stood up from his chair and went into the bathroom. "You think you know, but you don't, and then pretend you do to stay stuck up and arrogant and live in your world of pretension." He turned on the tap of water. "Why not give me money to do nothing then, since you are so fucking rich?"

"You know it doesn't work that way." PJ said as he came in and stood in front of Chris. "If I do that, aren't I making you my mistress or something?"

"Mistress?" Chris mouthed the word as he turned back to face the other. "I can be your fucking bitch, if you are going to pay me that much money." He leaned up and crashed his lips to PJ's, his arms reaching for PJ's neck as the boy almost lose balance. "After all, you are still fucking grouping me with whores." PJ's arms slid to his waist as Chris continued sucking on PJ's lip. They crashed to the wall on PJ's back.

"Whoa, man, sensitive!" PJ was breathless as Chris pulled back for air.

"So say the guy who called me a fucking faggot." Chris seethed. "How does it feel to be 'entertained'?" He lunged forward again and their lips met. Chris felt PJ's arousal beneath his pants, fleetingly caressing his own hard on and smirked at his achievement. He bent his fingers down to cup PJ's arousal and stroked it rougher as PJ's fingers drummed down his waistband, filling the shape of his ass.

"I… love it." PJ's teeth nibbled on his ears as he pushed Chris even closer than humanely possible so that their arousals crash and Chris' palm clipped tight between them. "Are you up for an insane good time?"

Chris's eyes flickered. "Are you sure you are up to offer me a good time?"

* * *

"_Hello, this is Chris Kendall, entertainer extraordinaire. I am currently unavailable. Please leave me a message and I will contact you back soon. Toodles!"_

Beep.

"_Hey Chris? This is Victor Daughtry. Just calling to check on you, you seem rather sick and pale last Saturday when you leave and I thought I want to check up on you. Please call me back to arrange the time for your arrival for my birthday, and any other items you may need for your skits. I am anticipating."_

Beep.

"_Chris? Phil here. Just thought I want to check up on you since you hadn't reply to my texts. I'm sorry dude, went to get college supplies. I cannot believe I'm going to college! Please call me back okay? Love!"_

Beep.

"_Hey Chris? Dan calling. Please call Phil back, okay? He is driving me crazy because you hadn't responded to his calls or texts. Thanks, see ya."_

"…Dammit." Chris cursed as his eyes opened to feel a weight withholding his body from rising. It belonged to a certain rich boy who he had snogged and jumped few hours prior. PJ's body was entirely smothering him, as his limbs were sprawled around Chris. He tried to move a little, but PJ held him tighter and Chris swore under his breath. "Hey PJ Liguori?"

"Hmmm…." PJ was not awake, but mumbled something instead. Chris bit his lip when PJ snuggled him into the former's bosom.

"PJ Liguori, I need to go to the restroom. Wake up okay?" Chris struggled to release himself, but PJ had a claw-like grip.

…Chris never realized that PJ had long eyelashes, or that he had such smooth skin even up close. Chris let his free arm swipe the brown hair off PJ's forehead and blinked at the peaceful looking face of the rich boy, the same face that belie the personality he showcased. Chris shut his eyes immediately when he felt movement from PJ, but there was nothing after and when he snapped one eye open again, PJ's limbs has returned to himself.

Chris sighed and exited the bed, picking up the phone and dialing the first number from his voicemail.

"…Hello, Mr. Daughtry?"

* * *

"Where are you Chris?" PJ's voice came over the phone.

"I am just picking up some groceries. I will be back in a while."

"Oh no, oh no. I'm just letting you know that I'm leaving. Have to get to class, am running late. Can I leave the door unlocked?"

"Oh yeah, okay." Chris was unsure why he felt a pang of disappointment, but he brushed it off when PJ mumbled a quick "thanks" and exited the conversation. "Hmm, well I guess I can give the extra cereal to Phil." His phone rang again, and Chris accepted the call. "Hmm?"

"By the way, stop calling me by my full name. Friends and family call me Peej. And save this number. I will come in contact with you again. This weekend, remember?"

"Oh yeah, okay." Chris answered, and when he slipped the phone in his jacket again, a small smile danced on his lips as he looked at his groceries. "Hmm, I think Phil can get his own cereal after all."

* * *

A/N: Rushed a little bit, but no, Chris and PJ are not together yet (officially). /spoiler/ Something about PJ tickles me and his personality tells me he is just not into Chris as how Chris is beginning to feel for him. Also he may just be using Chris for his selfish needs. /spoiler/ I am going to try to introduce more monologues on Chris's part because previously I had been vague on how the characters were feeling and etc, and also perhaps I will introduce a chapter focused entirely on PJ's POV. I wrote a short scene of Phil and Dan in the previous chapter but I didn't reveal their inner thoughts so technically, I did not change my story's POV. [It had either been Chris's POV or third person POV.] Unless previously stated, I prefer to keep this story this way. Please keep reading. Thank you so much.


	6. Chapter 6

Updated! A rather long chapter, by my current writing standards. This chapter is entirely in PJ's first person POV as well. Yay! I wasn't entirely sure if I wrote this chapter the way I wanted to especially because I keep scrapping the draft for this chapter, but it turned out pretty all right in the end so I just let it go. Uhm. Yes, I need to clear some things up obviously, although I kind of thought you would realize why Chris is suddenly really eager to help PJ. It will be fully fleshed out next chapter. Thank you for the follows/reviews/favorites, they make this lowly writer very happy.

CHAPTER VI

Chris Kendall may not know it, but he is pretty gullible.

I have firsthand impression of his character when I went to retrieve my wallet. After all, his lie was pretty obvious. I just chose to not notice it. His friend was very subtle when his fingers slipped for my wallet, and most people wouldn't notice that slight feather of a touch, but I am not most people. In fact, I would have called the police the first time instead of waiting for a contact. But of course it didn't cross his little mind that perhaps I had anticipated his phone call.

I would want to call him stupid and idiotic, but Chris Kendall merely places his emotions on his sleeve. It is a weakness that I had combat a long time ago by being passive. Future businessmen have the best smiles and most persuasive expressions and of course being a successor to my father, I had mastered it a long time ago. In fact, before meeting Chris and right after receiving the shattering news of my dad's infidelity on the same night, I don't recall having ever been angry. Then again I don't remember feeling so much better after getting into a fight and letting my frustrations flow out.

It is funny how I keep talking about Chris Kendall like a specimen that I am inspecting in my biology classes; after all, I am on the road to graduating with a medical degree; but the thing was, he is rather fascinating. Different. I realized this when he offered to treat my bruise despite us being total strangers. Comparing to all my acquaintances and him, it is as if I had a culture shock of a social kind. It places me at a tight spot because I am completely lost on how to act around him. In fact, it is utter disorienting because I cannot be my usual self around him. Or was I myself only when I am with Chris Kendall? I pride myself in being polite and well-mannered and there I was, throwing jibes and pushing his sexual envelope as he squirm in unhinged awkwardness. Oh, right, I forgot that I call him Chris now. Makes us feel _closer_.

He is still technically employed by me; despite his refusal I know very well will soon come to pass, especially since he has gotten his cake and eaten it. I am persistent and I know that he will have to agree. It is difficult to resist my temptations, as he might have learned. For a man who resist to being labeled a 'whore', he is very sexy and pliant on bed. Tempted, indeed.

In fact, I was awake when I found myself all over him like some pressed on cushiony bear, and my weight suppressed his. It is fascinating to feel his soft gaze traveling on my features as his futile release from my hold. I do not know what he is thinking at that moment. It is disconcerting when you are being watched instead of the other way around. But I did not mind that it was him. Maybe it is the grey-green eyes that seem to insinuate between colors as his conduct changes, or the smooth fair skin on his body even up close. Chris is one with as much passion in having sex as he is about his craft. I decided to let him go and do his thing because the heavy breath he blew into my face is potentially working on dragging me to a much reluctant second round.

"Hello, Mr. Daughtry?" the voice was timid and softer than usual as he disappeared into the restroom with the phone. I can barely hear voices but 'I got treated', 'I'm fine' and 'Just light bleeding' does make a picture rather clear. The occupational hazards were not gone on Chris, and he has definitely taken it badly, judging on the lines on his wrists. I suppose it has been a norm for the jagged, chaffed soul.

It was a while more when Chris returned into bed, cuddling into my side as he allowed the duvets to cover after him. I strained an eye open to see on the clock by the bedside that I am getting late for class. To hell with classes, I'll pick sleeping with Chris any day. I will even let him call me Peej. Sounds like a fair deal.

Lest you think I have gone soft and letting some random entertainer become part of my socializing circle, let's not forget this association I have with Chris remains business acumen. My emotions or the lack of it has no concern within this range. The money plays a big part. Chris had better get to making my parents' divorce definite if he wishes to receive the pay.

* * *

Today is Sunday, the day I had decided to bring Chris home and get the party going. Somewhere along the lines of 'a lot of money' and 'another night' in our preparatory discussions Chris has become rather pleasant and when I got him dressed in one of the designer suits I possess, he looks dashingly handsome.

His face lurched a little when I brought Chris in and introduced him as a good friend from school, the latter smiling a little shyly. Jackpot.

"Oh, Peej. Who is this?" My dad asked in wonder, his clutched fists gripping rather tightly in recognition.

"Oh father, this is Chris. From school." I replied as insouciantly as I could but I know the message it had sent across. Chris knew this as well, because his eyes were watching Mr. Liguori with lidded interest.

"Hello, Mr. Liguori. I believe we met before." Chris answered coolly. "Remember that time at 's party…"

"Oh, Chris, I believe you got the wrong person. I don't think I know a Mr. Dawson." My father's reaction was expected, and Chris shrugged. I smiled my best and placed a hand around Chris' shoulder while taking note of my father's sudden lack of warmth.

"Let's have dinner, shall we?"

"Yes of course!" my mom nodded as we sat down on the table, the four of us, as the maid came up serving some appetizers. I picked up my fork and took a bite, watching intently as Chris's eyebrow wiggled in its flirtatious way towards my dad's direction. My mother was into the plan as she talked about some random dinner topic and eyed my dad's reaction.

"So Chris, what are you studying?" My mother spoke.

"I'm doing drama and theater." Chris spoke after chewing a piece of his salmon. "In fact, I meet Peej in one of my plays."

"Oh yes, 'Othello'." It was an obvious backhanded situation meant for literal interpretation. My father gulped noisily.

"Are you alright?" Chris asked politely.

"I am fine." My dad chose to stare in his plate instead of at him. Staring at his lack of comfortableness in conversation, he is either erect or utterly shocked. I would take the former instead of the latter, entirely satisfied with his response.

* * *

"Your turn, Chris." I murmured as soon as his steps trudged up the stairs. "Finish the job. I'm getting my camera ready."

"Alright." Chris whispered as his voice reached my ears and tugged at some invisible threads within me. Before I could discern this feeling, he had exited the sofa. My mother chose to keep herself clear of the situation and had retreated into the kitchen.

I grabbed my camcorder and headed up the stairs, switching the on button as I spotted them. There my father was, standing at the alleyway with Chris's arms looped around his neck.

"Hey Mr. Liguori, I hadn't seen you in a long while." Chris slurred, a smirk framed on his face. "You never called me after you met Carlos."

"Don't say that wretched name!" My father hissed. "That motherfucker!"

"Well, I thought you and Carlos were getting well." Chris answered innocently.

"You are only a fucking entertainer, what do you know?"

"Of course I don't. But you can tell me." Chris edged closer. Mr. Liguori pushed him away, to my sudden surprise, his hand leaning to his forehead.

"Get off me you slut! Just because I am homosexual doesn't mean I can choose any guy to jerk off to. I only want Carlos and then he fucking left." A whisper. "I have nothing left but my family to cling onto."

"So you chose to stay with your scorned wife and keep the money?" Chris pulled away from the man as he leaned on the wall. He was angry, his words coming off like bullets hitting a flimsy armor. "Isn't it unfair for her as well if you are going to fantasize about Carlos each time you have sex? Men like you always think they can go out and gallivant and come home to their warm, loving families. What do you take your family for? Getting a divorce and then backtrack? Men like you, are _utter_ scum and monsters."

"I love my family, Chris. But I love him so much more! But I don't understand why he has no regard towards my feelings." my dad kneeled to the floor, his face contorted into tears. "I always had my way around with men and thought I can keep it a fling, a hidden hobby. Then I met Carlos. I thought he would take no heed to my money, that he would be different. I just thought I met the love of my life. But I had no intention of making my family go through this hell. I just want to have something to belong to."

_I_ didn't expect my tongue to go dry. Being a future businessman armed with skills to cover my emotions, I was watching my father; a great entrepreneur who taught me what I always knew; sprawling on the floor broken as his slumped figure covered his sobbing. My mom heard his cries I presume, because she was up the stairs and standing beside me. Both of us watched as his head finally spun to our direction and a pang erupted in my heart.

Chris was shaking as his mouth form the last words. "Please don't hurt Peej and Mrs. Liguori anymore."

My great, revered father stared back at him, and I swallowed what i realized was tears.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for the reviews and favorites, I thank you from the deep of my heart for the love. I know that this update will be rather short, but I have been rather busy with stuff and had no time to write something lengthier. I apologize! By the way, I am thinking of something new to write in regards to the Fantastic Foursome, and SITC occurred over the weekend! That pictures of that event had only exacerbated my love for Chris Kendall. Seriously, that man should stop make me ship him so much. He can literally make me ship him with anyone, that's how awesome Chris is. The SITC also introduced me to Jack and Dean and now I feel like writing something related to them. The things kissing videos do to you...

* * *

CHAPTER VII

Chris was five when he first felt that sensation.

It was in the dreary city of Manchester, a fleeting feeling that breezes through Christopher's memory. Within the four walls of confinement, he was pushed through a door and forced to stay put as his mother who would so lovingly feed and clothe him wail. The first marked presence in his patchy history of the man he would never see doing things he could only imagine brought nothing but fear and strangeness. He would shiver in fear, he would whimper, he could only recoil the way young boys do. It would all be forgotten when the door of the unknown was opened and he was returned to a warm bosom.

He was nine when he started reacting. They were living somewhere else, a pretty shady place, and his mother was working in a small grocery store. He had met Philip few months prior. Christopher was shy and the Lester parents looked scary, but Philip was a ball of sunshine and stuck to him until Christopher opened up.

It was that fateful one day when Christopher ran home early. Mrs. Franklin in school taught him how to fold a paper rabbit and he wanted to show to his mother the origami that he made. The house was quiet, but his mother's shoes were on the rack. Christopher ran as quick as his little feet could carry him up the stairs and the bedroom door was ajar when Christopher came home. His mother was always gloomy and Christopher wanted to cheer her up, so happily, he burst into the room to announce the creation of his rabbit. After all Mrs. Franklin had praised his bright smile and his pretty animal.

Somewhere along the line, Christopher became Chris; Philip became Phil; and he grew apart from his mother, who became even gloomier than ever. Chris found a knack for making people laugh and earning pocket money by saying witty jokes. His little burgeoning career in Manchester was shortened when a random fire burnt his house and his mother. At this point the Lesters had been in prison for some shady business and their only son supported himself by establishing an intriguing skill of producing wallets out of thin air. Then, Phil came to him with his bag and a promise of London.

He started fingering a word to this unshakeable whatchamacallit that persisted through London – repulsion they call it – and the penknife became his best friend. One can only hold in for so long. He had naively thought being an entertainer stays within non sexual bounds, but once he got caught in to his first sexual encounter, he realized that he had only treaded on the same path his mother had attempted to veil from him, albeit under a different name. After all, an entertainer has to go to all lengths to keep customers happy, and this literal double edged sword brought him more revenue than silly acts or jokes combined.

He had forgotten when is it that he started referring those disgust to himself. Maybe it was the first time he blacked out.

Mr. Liguori was not the first man he had seen overthrown by fake promises and prostitutes, nor the first unrepentant one. Rich assholes like him, Chris had seen loads in his five year stay of London. He had grown uncaring towards these men. But this one man talked about _love_, a feeling so pure that only some could only comprehend, for a filthy creature like himself, about how the man fucking _love_ another prostitute and was ready to let go of everything for said person, and in spite of the selfishness of it all, Chris could understand.

Chris watched as the man crumpled to the floor, a wretched man, and the feeling rose to his throat – the same feeling he had first felt when he ran home from school with his rabbit origami and saw his mom cuffed to the bed.

It was beyond saving, it was beyond repulsion, it was beyond disgust.

It was the same sensation that had always dogged him ever since he was five.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello! Chapter 8 is earlier than I expected. :D Listening to loads of Kings of Leon, Coldplay, Norah Jones and MCR in that exact order had channeled this chapter into a rather weird... concoction that I cannot decipher. But it is progress, so progress it is! We delve more into Phil and Chris' relationship in this chapter and yes, you can go figure how messed a person Chris is. And also more PJ and Chris because I love them :D

Housekeeping notes:

1) A reviewer corrected me on Phil's eye color in Chapter 2 and checking back, I realize that I had indeed messed up his eye color. It is blue, not green. [PJ's eyes are green.] I apologize. :(

2) For some reason every time I write Chris and PJ they just end up arguing. It's all the sexual tension :P

* * *

CHAPTER VIII

Phil was sitting on the couch, bouncing off it almost immediately when Chris unlocked the door and walked in. "Chris! How was the Liguoris? I came here as soon as I got your call."

"Phil…" Chris began before turning right into the bathroom direction and leaned over the bowl, releasing the contents of his dinner straight into the whirlpool. He coughed as Phil came over and smoothed his back. "I feel sick."

"Do you want to sit down?" Phil asked carefully as he rubbed Chris's shoulder smoothly and let Chris finish his administrations with the toilet bowl. Chris nodded weakly and leaned on the bathroom wall as he let a sigh escaped his lips.

"I want to go home. I want to go back to Manchester." Chris murmured; his pale pallor surfacing as Phil kneeled beside him. "I don't want to be here anymore. Fuck the world. Fuck everyone. Fuck." He eased his head on Phil's shoulder and looked into nothing in particular. "Why am I still here?"

Phil reached for Chris's hand and held it in an assuring manner. "Chris. I told you to stop what you are doing." Phil sighed as he stared at Chris's eyes concernedly. "You know you can stop this right?"

"No. This is the last." Chris closed his eyes. "PJ Liguori will be paying me a substantial amount. With the money I can quit this shit and then go back to Manchester. Do some standard stuff. No more doing this kind of shit. I even called Daughtry the other day. Spat at him in the face. Told him I'm not going to see him ever again."

"That is amazing." Phil's smile was sincere as he leaned forward to hug Chris. Chris crouched his head comfortably at the crook of Phil's neck and smiled weakly. "You are always amazing, you know that?"

"Thanks." Chris's answer was muffled. The vibration coming from Phil's pocket shook both of them, and Chris looked up to see Phil's free hand working on typing onto the keypad of the phone. Then he finally noticed Phil's rather smart dress shirt.

"I'm sorry." Chris muttered, leaning back to the wall. "I know you are having a date with Dan and all, but I don't know who to call."

"It's okay. Dan understands." Phil replied coolly. "That is what is nice about him."

Chris quietly extracted his fingers from Phil's touch and crossed his arms. "I'm fine. You can go back now."

"Are you sure you are fine?" Phil placed a hand on Chris's shoulder. "I can stay the night."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll check the door." Chris moved up from his position gingerly, pushing Phil's hand off in the process, and walked to the door to open it. "Oh hey. Why are you here?" Phil followed Chris and he paused at the newcomer.

"Hey." Phil greeted noncommittally as PJ smiled politely at the door.

"I came to check on you, obviously." PJ turned his eyes back to Chris. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Chris mumbled. "As you can see, Phil is here with me."

On cue, Phil's phone rang, and he excused himself from the duo at the door.

"Oh, as you can see Phil has to go back to his boyfriend." PJ raised an eyebrow. "You need company."

"Don't you need to company your mom or something?" Chris slightly tilted his head in arrogance. "There's no room for you here."

"Phil, I think you can go now." PJ announced calmly as he stepped into the house, ignoring Chris's words. "I want to talk to Chris in private." Phil frowned as he looked into his phone and back to Chris, and Chris bit his lip.

"It's Dan, isn't it? Go and talk to him." Chris answered in monotone as he walked to the couch and sit down, pulling off his coat and tossing it carelessly over the armrest. "I guess PJ and I do have something to talk."

"Well…" Phil's eyes darted from Chris to PJ for a moment before he looked at his phone. "Hey, Dan? Yeah I am coming. Just give me a few minutes." Mouthing a 'sorry' to Chris, Phil's eyebrows knitted together before he turned and exited, phone glued to his ear.

PJ pressed the tick on the door knob shut before returning to the sitting frame.

"You don't look good." PJ commented as he sat down on the other side of the couch. "Is it because of my dad or because of your unbridled infatuation for that friend of yours?"

"You don't have the right to judge me." Chris stood up almost instantly as he walked to the tiny kitchenette, fingers began tinkering around the cupboard. "So congratulations, you achieved your goal. I expect my payment next Monday to be channeled into my account."

"I don't have the money." PJ answered. Chris's hold around a coffee cup froze in midair, and the black haired entertainer turned back to look at the sitting guest.

"What do you mean?" Chris's voice was slow as his fingers found the counter, the cup landing on a loud bump.

"My parents are getting divorced all right, but they have decided to channel the money towards business partnerships." PJ walked into the kitchenette, his intense eyes looking into Chris's. "So I cannot get any money."

"I thought with his declaration, you would almost immediately win the money." Chris blinked before reaching for the coffee. "So your work is at loss."

"I know I owe you a favor anyways." PJ's tone was apologetic. "It was not my intention to make you work for nothing."

"Fuck." Chris's cursed under his breath as the hot water from the dispenser scalded his hand. The cup containing the coffee powder slammed across the floor in smithereens. He immediately squatted down and began picking up the pieces, but his entire being was shaking. A glass piece cut his hand but Chris was unresponsive to the pain.

"Are you seriously a masochist?" PJ reprimanded, grabbing Chris' hand and tossing off whatever glass piece he was holding. "Come on." Dragging Chris out of the kitchen, PJ pushed him onto the couch. "Let me get the first aid kit. Damn, every time I see you at your place you are almost always hurt. Is it the aura or something?"

"Fuck you." Chris spat.

"Sure, sure, you will get there at some point. But now let me look at it." PJ mused, taking a firm grab on Chris' hand and inspecting it. Chris stopped struggling as he stared at PJ intently. PJ's eyes focused at Chris, letting go of the hand slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Do you feel pain right now?"

"Not really." Chris shake his head slowly. "It's just a minor cut."

"Okay. That is good." Turning away, PJ reached for the first aid kit and kneeled down in front of Chris. Taking the iodine, he swabbed it with a cotton pad and dabbed it over Chris's hand, then he took a plaster and placed it over the cut. "Don't touch it anymore." His hold on Chris remained.

"Okay." Chris pulled away and stood up from the couch, walking to the window. "You have told me whatever I need to know. Thanks so much. You can go now."

"I know you hate me at this moment. I heard your conversation with Daughtry the other day." PJ murmured. "Something about "not doing weird shit for you anymore" and "I have the money, so don't give a damn about it", and you are waiting for the money I can give you to be free of your bounds." He stood up as Chris turned to look back at him. "That's why I feel that I have to give you a proper explanation."

Chris mock snickered.

"All rich people are the same anyways. What makes you think you are different enough to _owe_ me an explanation?"

PJ's face was serious. "I want you to have a good impression of me, because I know you have a crush on me and not on the other rich guys."

"Stop repeating that!" Chris yelled, his eyes flaring in anger. "Even I know that I am being fucking stupid and crushing on people I could just feel connections with but you don't need to rub it in my face! I hadn't known you for that long, Mr. Liguori, for you to fucking start judging me, justifying my own actions for me, you are not Jesus!"

"I just want to feel something, is that so difficult to comprehend?"

"Do I give a damn?" Chris's face was indignant.

"Give me something to give a damn about!" PJ walked over to Chris and tightened his hold around the other's shoulders. "I did not like that Phil was in your apartment this evening, that he is the first person you call, that he is the one to know everything you are thinking about despite the fact that he is attached and probably not available for you at all possible times!" and he kissed Chris roughly. Chris resisted but slowly melted into reciprocation. The kiss was prolonged for a moment before PJ pulled back.

"What the fuck?" Chris frowned, lines appearing on his forehead.

"Did anyone tell you, you curse too much?" PJ's voice came out hoarse, and he smiled lightly. "I can help you, all right?"

The lines on Chris's face deepened.

* * *

Despite the fact that PJ punched a crack onto Chris' tightly wounded being, will he also be the one to save Chris from his hell? The answer will be revealed.. next chapter. We are near the end of this series! *claps excitedly* Looking back, I wondered if some chapters have been too rushed or too underdeveloped. But I am not going to touch/edit it because in my opinion, the way I wrote it at that spur of the moment reflects my most sincere thoughts of the story and any more touching up will probably reduce the essence of the story that I wanted when I started writing.


	9. Chapter 9

Update! :D Hmm I am on a roll. I wrote something yesterday and posted it on FF, and today I wrote something and posted it too! :D It seems that I am getting more accustomed to writing 1500+ words on a single setting. Is it weird to be obsessed with writing long stories? Anyways. Explanation for this chapter will be at below. I thought I may have given enough tips from the beginning, but maybe I had not. And regarding PJ, I will also comment on it below. Please read this chap first! :D

* * *

CHAPTER VIV

"So, what is it about?" Chris nonchalantly asked as PJ asked him to meet about a week later, on the same bench where Chris had first returned the wallet to PJ. He blinked a little when PJ passed a binder of papers to him.

"This is vital information for you, Chris." PJ answered hopefully. "There's some information of Daughtry that may or may not be of important help to you." Chris' eyes bulged at the first few papers, and tossed a look at PJ, who smiled cheerfully.

"There's a few more…" Chris mumbled, looking past the papers filled with pictures of compromising nature to reveal some documents. "…GCSE application papers?"

"Yeah. I thought you would want to; you know, go to university and study something. Phil agrees with me on this." Chris chose not to question how did PJ wrestle the information from his best friend, but he pursed his lips and stared at the papers for a minute.

"Where will I get my money, Mr. Rich Boy? University requires a lot of studying and I have close to none."

"Well, Mr. Entertainer, I still owe you pay. We agreed to pay you for your role the other day." Chris's fingers paused when he reached the end of the binder, a sealed envelope perched in there. "After all, our cooperation is a business partnership." PJ grinned. "Open it, take a look."

Chris's breath hitched as he unsealed the envelope and looked inside.

"What the hell." Chris shot a look at PJ. "So you were tricking me the other night?"

PJ's smile was questioning. "You are so gullible, you know that?"

"Fuck you." Chris whispered under his breath, but the smile threatening to rise from his lips was unmistakable. "…Fuck."

"So, you can focus on becoming a legit entertainer now, acting and the lot. No more sex with old men, you hear me?" Chris raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at PJ.

"What, you jealous of me being highly attractive to more mature men?"

"Well, not really." PJ mused. "But I do want you in one piece if _we_ are to continue have sex." Chris' face flared and he slammed his hand on the opened binder in embarrassment. Standing up, Chris shot PJ a leer, which the latter returned with a self-indulgent smile. "Oh Chris, you are so cute when you get super angry."

"I don't really understand what you mean, Mr. Liguori. I do charge a lot of money for proper service." Chris's tone was level, but a twinkle was apparent in his eyes. PJ stood up and placed his arms around Chris, pulling the other close so that their shoulders bump.

"Ah, is this what you say to someone who likes you?"

"…What?" Chris sputtered, eyes blinking. PJ gave a sweet smile and bent over to Chris' ear… and gave it a hard nibble.

"What the fuck?" Chris sat up from his bed, taking in a deep breath as he realized that he was not in Hyde Park, but his own battered bed somewhere in East London and there was no PJ, just PJ in a dream that dissipated the moment he opened his eyes. "Oh great." Chris spat as he stared at the rising lump on his pants, stretching his pants rather uncomfortably. "Fucking thank you, Peej Liguori." Grumbling, Chris stretched a little, reaching for the familiar penknife before walking into the bathroom.

On the bedside, where his phone was placed, a new voicemail beeped amid all the unread ones.

* * *

"Hey, Chris! It's been a week, how are you?"

"As miserable as ever." Chris mumbled, new lines of his wrists evident of his words. Phil bit his lip as Chris stared into the empty space with a blank stare, leaving his coffee untouched.

"You shouldn't cramp yourself in the apartment too much you know." Phil muttered. "It worries me."

"I'm okay, don't worry about me." Chris' tone was unconvincing, and Dan gave a light sigh as he came by with toast for the boys. Dan furrowed his eyebrows at Phil, who shrugged as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Has Liguori gotten in contact with you?" Phil murmured after a few moments when Chris was unresponsive and Dan walked off to serve other customers in the restaurant.

"No, I don't want to talk to him at all." Chris answered levelly as he took a bite of his buttered toast.

"But you liked him!" Phil's words were whispered, but it bought on a sudden effect to Chris' gaze and he stared at his friend, who flinched.

"Don't talk about him." Chris answered softly. "It's his fault for feeding me with an offer of fake hope and security."

"But he is different from all your other clients, I can see that." Phil's voice brought concern. "Even though he is technically rich like the other people, he gives off a feeling I got off you. Being lonely. Building up appearances for people to see. And he hasn't really taken advantage of you, has he?"

"Not advantage, _technically_." Chris took a sip of his coffee. "Why are you so interested in the random guy? Dan will get jealous, you know." Chris blinked at the vibration in his pocket and sighed as he made a larger chomp on his toast.

"Daughtry?" Phil need not guess. Chris ignored him. "He has been rather persistent lately, hadn't he?"

"His birthday is in a week." Chris answered solemnly.

"Dammit." Phil's voice hitched. "You should issue some sort of police warning, get him away from you."

"He supplies me with money." Chris' eyes diverted. "It's a source of income."

"What the heck?" Phil stood up from his seat in the booth. "You are just putting yourself in this destructive cycle and you just can't let yourself go, can you?"

"You are wrong-"

"No I am not! Even I managed to save up for university. How could you not when you earn more money than I do? It's not that you want to avoid poverty, is that you cannot escape yourself from _serving_ people. And you are letting yourself stay in this miserable state because that is what you know best. And unless you yourself break from it and mean what you say when you talk about a better future, _nothing_ will change." Phil's eyes were filled with sorrow as he shake his head. "Where was the old Chris I knew?"

Chris exited the booth and pushed Phil away roughly as he headed for the door.

* * *

"Fancy you coming here." Dan's words sniped at the curly haired guy before him.

"I want to look for Chris; he hadn't been returning my calls." PJ answered seriously. "He doesn't answer the door either. I need to talk to him."

"He came this morning." Phil came to the counter and leaned on the ledge. "But he doesn't want to talk to you."

"I know he is very angry. But I only wish to explain myself." PJ explained simply. "Is there a way I can go into his house or something?"

Phil sighed. "Liguori, why are you so persistent?"

PJ's eyes sharpened. "Because there is something I need to clarify to him."

Dan and Phil turned to look at each other, before Phil reached into his pocket and tossed a key. PJ intercepted it.

"His spare key."

"Thanks." PJ mumbled before exiting the restaurant. Dan placed a finger under his chin and smiled thoughtfully at Phil.

* * *

The door creaked before opening; Chris relaxed mid cut. He leaned back into the bathtub as the red water engulfed half of his body.

"Phil?" Chris asked from the bathroom door that was partially ajar. PJ pushed it open.

"Is this the way you make Phil continue feeling guilt, by hurting yourself and then flashing it off at him so that he will continue to care for you?" PJ's tone was stern.

"Why are you here?" Chris' eyes frowned as his free arm sunk into the water, adding more red speckles to the already amber colored water. "I have no business with you anymore."

"I do." PJ sat down by the side of the bathtub and leaned close into Chris, who did not budge. "I want to help you."

"You don't need to. Take care of your mom." Chris' tone was quiet as he stood up from the water, back facing PJ and grabbing a towel to cover himself. "Now, please step out so that I can dry myself."

"How sure are you that what you are feeling for Phil and what you are feeling for me is the same?" PJ placed his long leg on the ledge of the bathtub, obstructing Chris' from walking out of the bathtub.

"Why are you even sure that I feel something for you?" Chris shake his head in disbelief. However, he turned away when PJ did not stop staring at him. "Please, go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"This is not helping you or me, the rate this is going." PJ stood on the bathroom tiles and rearranged his white checkered t-shirt.

"Then why come?" Chris's towel on his side has produced red lines from his wrist. "You don't need to care."

"Why are you so freaking stubborn?" PJ pulled Chris out from the bathtub hastily and twisted his wrist to take a good look. "Are you completely blind to what I feel for you at this point? Or do you want me to keep repeating it for the sake of digging your own self-contentment?"

Chris' eyes were glassy as he held back sobs.

* * *

"Chris? You awake?" A warm hand touched his forehead, and Chris opened his green-brown eyes to peer into PJ's green ones.

"…Yeah." Chris turned away, as PJ retracted his hand and turn to thank a man in black suit. The man muttered something in return before giving Chris a smile and exiting the room. He gave a loud groan. "I cannot believe you got me a shrink."

"Well, you need to help yourself, sooner or later. Your shrink's name is Dr. Joseph; he suspects bipolar, depressive and suicidal tendencies from you and recommends that you go see him again in a week." PJ announced as he popped out a glass of orange juice from his back. "And I got you something to make you better! So drink this!"

"And how am I going to pay the fucking shrink?" Chris sat himself up on the wall of the bed, grabbed the glass and gulped it down.

"Oh he's my family psychiatrist. Don't worry about it." PJ answered coolly and Chris placed his half empty cup by his bedside, grumbling "rich boys" under his breath. PJ grinned and grabbed a chair, sitting down beside Chris, leaning his face on his palms as his elbow seated itself on Chris' bed.

"You are a weirdo, you know that?" Chris leaned down the bed again and turned away, his back facing PJ.

"So are you going to care for me more than Phil now?"

"…What the hell."

* * *

Chris really is tongue tied when it comes to PJ, that guy is good in talking isn't he. Anyways. If you had seen this coming then yay! :) There is a toll to someone who has to do stuff they are unwilling to, and to Chris the toll is not obvious to him, but it is to PJ. [and Phil and Dan. They had a conversation about this once, remember? Somewhere in one of the chapters...] And after reading PJ's POV, what do you think he is being nice to Chris now? Does he really like Chris? Or is there another reason? [I'm sorry. I just like making people think don't I.] And what about Phil and Chris? :P Answers will be revealed next chapter/next next chapter. I think I may write a POV from Phil or Dan or just another PJ POV for the heck of it. Though if I write from Dan's POV it will definitely be a chapter full of Phan goodness. That said, I have been going on Omegle lately and RPed Phan more than I would want to, and sometime it interferes with the way I think when writing Kickthestickz. I don't know. :o


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